


If you say so

by Shadesmar



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: But no one dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Survivor Guilt, Trauma, alcohol mention, just come very close to it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 08:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20336815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadesmar/pseuds/Shadesmar
Summary: Moominpappa tells a story about one of his and Joxter's adventures.





	If you say so

It was an unusual sight to see in the Moomin household: both the Mymble and Joxaren had arrived, quite by accident, on the same rainy night.

Joxter had been expecting a quiet evening of reminiscing with Moominpappa on the porch, pipe in one hand and a piping mug of currant juice in the other. Now he was confined to the kitchen, curled in one of the dining chairs and looking for all the world like a tired seat cushion. Mymble had certainly mistaken him as such, anyway.

"You great big woman, watch where you sit!" Joxter yowled, brushing down the hairs of his poor, bruised tail.

"Oh, how was I to see you there anyway, you great big oaf!" The Mymble sniffed derisively at the mumrik, before lifting the tablecloth and sighing. "Not there, either."

"What's not there?"

"One of my children, little Fyra. She shouldn't have joined the others, not with her leg the way it is- oh! There you are, dear!"

The child was sitting atop a kitchen counter, peeling vegetables. "Moominmamma said I could help," she offered quietly.

"That's quite all right dearie, I'm glad to see you here rather than playing games with the others."

The child looked a little forlorn at that, and settled herself back into the motion of peeling potatoes.

Joxter decided to venture his curiosity. "How did that happen, anyway? Looks like a pretty nasty break."

"We were pretending to swing from jungle vines and I grabbed a branch that broke," said Fyra, plain as can be.

"Hmm. Not so different from us, eh Moominpappa?"

"Whatsat?" The moomin in question glanced up at Joxter from his novel. It was the first time he'd done so since sitting down and attempting to camouflage himself with the wallpaper.

"You and I, with the boat and the time you got your arm broken."

"Hold on just a minute there, Joxter. From what I remember, it was you who did the breaking, not I."

"Semantics."

"No, it- " Moominpappa sighed. "Do we need to go over this again?"

"You broke your arm?" Fyra said, eyes alight. "But you're a grown up!"

Mymble chuckled. "Grownups can break limbs too, Fyra."

"Yes, but this was when we were much younger. Not as young as you, Little Fyra, but not any older than Snufkin is now."

Joxter paled. "I'm not sure she wants to hear about this, Moomin. Let's just forget I said-"

Mymble sat down excitedly, this time in a chair that was Joxter-free. "I'd like to hear your story, Moominpappa!"

"Yes, all right now. It was a long time ago, on a night not unlike this one..."

* * *

Joxter and Moomin hadn't picked the best day for their excursion, but they couldn't wait for better weather. Joxter had pounced at the foot of Moomin's bed excitedly, clamoring about treasure.

"But we must hurry," he cried. "The tide will be in at any moment, and it will all be swept out to sea!"

"I'll be... up... in jussaminnit." Moomin said. yawning.

"Meet me at the beach as soon as you can!" Joxter scurried out of the room, and Moomin could hear him hurriedly scampering down the stairs and out the door.

"Careful there, Joxter," Moomin groaned. "I only just finished... leveling... that."

He sat awake, blinking. "Did you say treasure?"

Joxter had wasted no time in rigging the boat, and by the time Moomin made it to the shore, the only thing left to do was shove out into open water.

"Are you sure about this? It looks a little choppy, and I didn't even eat breakfast yet." Moomin felt a forlorn pang of hunger as he said it, already wishing he'd stayed in the house.

"Nonsense, Moomintroll! Where's your sense of adventure?"

Grunting, Moomin pulled himself into the boat and watched as Joxter loosed the rope from his hands. The boat began to drift on the wind, the sail infinitesimally small against the gray morning clouds.

"It looks like rain soon, Joxter."

"It will only be a short trip. There, it's just on those shoals."

Moomin looked, and squinted out to sea, where Joxter was pointing. "It just looks like rocks to me."

"There, way up on the biggest one! Don't you see it?"

Moomin kept looking, and he finally saw a faint outline of something big and glittering. "What is that?"

"Treasure, of course!"

"Joxter, you've gone mad."

"It's treasure, Moomin! And we're the first to discover it!"

"Quite mad." But even he had begun to fantasize about mounds of gold, and carrying pockets and pockets full of gems back to Moominmaiden...

Joxter caught the look in his eye and grinned. "To treasure!"

They sped quickly enough out to the rocky sandbar, with the wind pushing their little vessel at a clipping pace. But that was also a problem, in and of itself.

"Jox, I think we might-"

"Full speed ahead!"

"We really might be coming in a little-"

"I can see it, we just need to get a little closer-"

"JOXTER!"

The prow struck the tallest of the rocks and the little boat splintered.

Joxter held fast to the side of the boat, and while his eardrums rattled with the force of the collision, he somehow managed to keep his grip.

Then he realized he was sliding, and the deck beneath him was pitching in the waves.

"Oh dear," he said, scampering up from the broken bits of wood onto the safety of the rocks, "safety" being only a relative word.

Saltwater stung his eyes, and he fought to keep them open as he searched for Moomintroll amongst the wreckage. He saw a flash of white and he made to dash for it, before he realized it was only a tattered piece of sail.

"Moomin! Moomintroll! Where are you?"

Panic rose as he searched. Fear tore into his limbs and made his hands shake as he searched and searched and could not see him.  
Images filled his mind- the jib, tearing loose and smashing his dear Moomintroll in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious for the waves to swallow up- or the sail wrapping around him and filling up with seawater, dragging him down...

"Moomintroll, Moomintroll! Answer me! Moomin!"

He heard splashing, and a panicked cry.

"Help me, Joxter!"

Joxter's gaze lighted on the struggling Moomin, thrashing about in the water and barely holding his head above the water's surface. Joxter quickly saw why- a piece of rope was wound tight around Moomin's arm, leaving him stuck fast to the waterlogged rigging. Joxter dove in after his friend and tried to help him keep afloat, but tugging him to safety was impossible.

"It's too heavy," Joxter said, and he felt a wretched sound of despair wrench its way past his lips. Fingers trembling, he reached into his pockets, hoping his pocketknife had survived the wreck. Then he remembered he'd been using it to pare apples the other day, and it was sitting in his tent, miles away.

Another cry of pain from Moomin jolted him back to the present, and he spotted a twisted piece of metal amongst the pieces of wreckage and pried it away. He then set to work on the rope, and soon was able to wrest Moomin out of the tangled rigging and up onto the shoals.

"Moomin, your eyes look funny- did you get hit with something?"

The troll barely responded.

A new fear gripped Joxter as he prompted Moomin again, "Are you hurt? Where did you get hurt?"

"I'm very tired, Joxter." Moomin let his eyes fall shut.

"No. Nonononono. Please, Moomintroll, you can't, we need to go get help, we need to get someone to help us and I need you to stay awake, please stay awake for me?"

If Moomin could hear or care about Joxter's panicking, he certainly didn't show it.

"Oh no," Joxter said, very frightened. "Oh, what have I done?"

* * *

  
"I don't remember any of that," said Moominpappa, quietly.

"Well, you had a concussion, so of course not."

"I remember the fisherman who helped us."

"Oh hush, you were out cold the whole time."

"Well I remember the one at the doctor's, who gave me soup."

"That was two days later, Moomin."

"It wasn't nearly that long!" Moominpappa harrumphed. "People who stay out that long don't wake up in the end, you know."

"You don't remember waking up."

"I do too, the fisherman was giving me soup-"

"Two days later, Moomin."

"I was perfectly fine! There are no hard feelings here, you know that!"

Joxter went quiet.

"All right dear," said Mymble, collecting her child in her arms, "I think we've heard enough. Let's call your siblings to dinner, shall we?"

The two of them left Joxter and Moominpappa in the kitchen. The pattering rain was the only thing that cleaved through the silence.

Moominpappa's face creased with concern. "You... do know that, right?"

Joxter held his chin in his palms, staring out into the rain. "It's not like it matters. Everything ended up all right in the end, although that was a fine boat."

"It was," Moominpappa agreed, "but not so fine that I'd rather have it here instead of you."

"But I wasn't the one who... It was you who got-" but Joxter couldn't even bring himself to finish the idea.

"I think you're right, Joxter. It isn't worth dwelling on."

And Joxter felt something twist in his heart then, an old lingering cloud of pain coalescing into a thunderstorm.

"It was my fault."

Moominpappa couldn't come up with something to say to that, so Joxter continued.

"Why were you the one who got hurt? If it had been me... well. It should have been-"

"Stop that. Stop that right now."

Joxter felt Moominpappa's hand on his shoulder, realized his face was wet, and suddenly the tears came even more freely.

"Everyone is all right, Joxter. You can't beat yourself up for something that didn't happen, can you?"

"But something might have happened, Moomin, and that's what I just- I can't bear it-"

"But it didn't." Moominpappa encircled his arms around the mumrik until the sobs faded away.

Moominmamma peeked into the kitchen and ushered the Mymble and her children into the other room, exclaiming that she'd decided to use their dining room, oft reserved for parties and special occasions, rather than the kitchen to serve dinner that night.

Moominpappa and Joxter embraced each other for a good while, before Moominpappa broke away and said, ever so gently, "I think I can recreate Moominmamma's hot cocoa recipe, if you'd like me to."

Joxter opened his mouth to quip about needing something stronger than that, perhaps whiskey, but seeing the look in Moominpappa's eyes told him it was not merely an offer of hot cocoa, but a chance to forgive, and heal, and move on.

"Okay," he said with a sniffle, and the tiniest of smiles. "If you say so."

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a very short story, but it's a very close one to my heart. I've just gotten into the Moomins fandom, and I'm completely fascinated with how Tove wrote the novels as a way of dealing with troubles in her personal life: her fears about love, war, and family all tied up together with the fantasy world of trolls, ladies of winter, grokes, and invisible children. Maybe this isn't the most well-written story. Maybe it doesn't do justice to her characters. But I hope it can help anyone else who's had an experience like it, as writing it was very cathartic for me. 
> 
> As for the treasure that Joxter saw up on that rock, I left it alone. It doesn't really matter what prompted the wreck, only that it happened. And that everyone is okay in the end, even Moominpappa with his concussion and broken arm. That Joxter doesn't need to feel guilty, because he's drinking hot cocoa with his best friend and everything is all right, and will continue to be all right, for a long time.


End file.
